


Wings of an Angel

by cadkitten



Category: X JAPAN
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was this look in his eyes; one that maybe a month ago I couldn’t have possibly grasped. But now, through this hell storm, I’ve come to be able to see it for what it really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings of an Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nanaberu](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nanaberu).



> Tried to write an X-Japan fic for nanaberu and this is what came out. *winces*  
> Beta Readers: gothic_hime  
> Song[s]: “The Approaching Night” by Philip Wesley

There was this look in his eyes; one that maybe a month ago I couldn’t have possibly grasped. But now, through this hell storm, I’ve come to be able to see it for what it really is. It’s not just one thing, not a single, solitary emotion. It’s the world entwined into his own internal workings, his entire life reflected behind those brilliant orbs, just waiting on me to pick up on it and flit through the moments in between.

But then... I’ve always been here, always been in the thick of it with him. And maybe he knows that, maybe he feels that deeper than anything else we’ve ever been through together. The way his arm feels around me, the weight of his breath on my neck as he curls into my embrace... it’s what I need to truly survive; to master this life in yet one more way.

Even as he turns and smiles, his hand raising as he waves to me in that way that tells me I’ll never see him again, it’s still a distinctly stark moment of something not quite pleasure, not quite pain. Because I can see his smile, I can feel it like nothing else as it’s branded upon my very heart. My own hand returns the motion, a smile upon my own face as well, and I feel – for the first time in years – at ease. This... this is everything. And it is nothing. The culmination of my heart and his soul, the deviant of destiny and the cusp of truth.

Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still feel him here, feel his warmth beside me in the chilly morning breeze, the sun filtering through the window up above. The weight on the bed dips it lightly to the left and I turn toward it, sliding my arms around him, drawing comfort from a memory of something that always half-existed. He’s been my angel, my soft-hearted soldier with wings. Not in a literal sense of course, but for the path of my life, he was the one that made the most solid influences, that drew me to the beginning of the man I would become.

And even when I reach out in those mornings and it’s not his body that I find in my bed, it’s simply put... perfectly fine. Never has a complaint left my lips and never will it. He is my heart, my soul, my one and my only and I can never not sing the praise of his existence. My breath catches in my throat and my tongue slides out for a single taste of my lips, a vague hope that somehow that simple pleasure will be mine again.

But life stole him too soon, pulled him away on empty promises and broken arms. And even in that memory, I still cannot find the will to allow my sadness to engulf me. It is what it is and the past is gone. But inside my heart – to the very depths of my soul – he will go on.


End file.
